Spilled my heart out
by Dragonling743
Summary: Myka's stint in Helena's time as a vampire left the science fiction writer confused and more than a little angry. Especially when her promises to protect Christina went unfulfilled. Now the broken-hearted writer has been forced out of retirement, and she plans on getting revenge. Warning, I don't know how to keep the angst out.
1. De-bronzed

A/N: Read Unblooded first. Otherwise you might be a bit lost. Binding. Searing. Revenge. That is why I am here, deeply pitted gravel grinding into my hands and knees. Light burned my eyelids as if a freshly lit filament were waiting to devour what little senses I had left. Metal tearing and screeching in my newly opened ears. The bitter tang of dreadful tears still lingered on my tongue. I couldn't even sort out all the smells around me, so many unfamiliar things. But I'm here. That is all that matters. I can finish this now. I can have her back. The rage within did not pause as I did. Too long I had considered ways to have 'her' back that I could no longer rationalize between my Christina, and Myka. A horrid weight fell on my shoulders, crushing what I used to believe was fine twined linen deep into my skin, tearing at my very pores with the rough fibers. The yank upon the other side of my shoulders forced my creaking joints to support a body that had been held up for over a century by dependable bronze. Finally a shout settled next to my ear as the person holding me welcomed me. "Welcome home old friend." For a mere second I thought it was Myka, that eternal second was the length it took to register that this voice, this voice was male. _ The agony of readjustment did not take nearly so long as the low voiced woman had declared. A mixture of my own willpower, and James' impatience had combined to leave me in a state of restless discomfort while he told me his plans. He made a great deal of impressive speeches, but on the whole I found him to be thinking very small. The years of my confinement had not been wasted in blurry red rage. Indeed my focus was quite clear. I shall understand this world, and then I shall judge it. 


	2. Chapter 2

The first moment of discomfort I discovered since my bronzing was a rather jarring experience. My skin no longer screamed as new articles of clothing scraped over it, and the roar of little sounds had dimmed to a manageable din.

The means to my end resided in my old home. James organized my transportation to England. What he didn't tell me was the way in which I was to be ported across the Atlantic. I arrived at a large stretch of asphalt and could not help myself.

Giant metal tubes with wings along the sides were driving all over the giant stretch of pavement, and one was taking off just as the taxi came to a stop. "Bloody hell." I muttered, "And I thought Da Vinci was crazy." I reached forward to touch the driver's shoulder, "Excuse me sir, do you know what exactly it is that keeps those monstrosities aloft?"

"Look lady, I just drive the cab. Now get out so I can pick up a new fare." He replied brusquely, practically giving me the boot. It seems James had already provided him with wages.

I am ashamed to admit that after I made my way through the positively horrid security measures, I spent my hour of waiting pacing in the flight lounge. I'm sure I caused serious harm to my finger as I gnawed on it.

"Excuse me ma'am, do you need help with something?" One of the airport staff I assume. Her skirt stopped at the knees, and it looked stiffer than a freshly starched tweed suit.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Do people fly on those monstrosities frequently?"

"Planes?" She asked blankly.

"Of course the bloody.. Planes." I snapped. James had better well get me into that Warehouse. My inner inventor was highly interested about the development of such machines, but the my whole frame shook at the idea of entering a metal structure and then leaving the ground.

The woman shrank like any Victorian flower. It was disgusting. "Ma'am this airport services thousands of people each day. I assure you that we support the highest standard of security here."

I gritted my teeth and muttered, "Thank you madam." I wasn't given anymore time to ponder my potentially horrifying fate, as the check-in agent's voice sounded across the lounge calling women and children to board.

That awful trip was spent in a haze of clenched fists and bitten lips. I'm afraid I might have destroyed the armrest. The whole ghastly vehicle kept vibrating, with the occasional jerk. I promised a hundred times to murder Macpherson, and each promise came with a different method to keep myself occupied.

When the massive beast bounced to a stop with a screech to finish off the whole experience, I leapt out of my seat, making it to the front of the line to get out. It was not until the plane was far behind me that I realized I was home.

Ahh the faint hint of city smog, trees and… Where is it? England can't have changed that much. I forced myself to go inside, facing yet another security check before I could leave with all my things. Another taxi picked me up. I admit I stared like a small child. There it was, the Thames just as I remembered… But not. Her waters though still muddy were clean of the muck that filled them throughout my youth. All signs of dereliction had been dredged from her banks. No wonder I had missed the smell. It no longer existed.

Finally we arrived at the only thing that could have torn my gaze from the great expanse of skyline. My own home. It looked as if I'd left but last week, if one neglected the slight fading of the brick. "Dear Lord, nothing's changed." I murmured aloud, stepping out of the cab with my travel bag.

I trailed my fingers over the wrought iron fence, and the brick posts in awe. A plaque of burnished metal stood where the bell pull had once been. I had to touch it to make sure the pull wasn't hiding somehow. "H.G. Wells Home." Underneath it gave Charles' birth date and… The year of his death.

"You were right Charles. I couldn't fix the past, but this future is mine." I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and brushed them over the plaque before entering the building I once called home.


	3. Chapter 3

I entered my home thinking I was prepared for any sight. Inside was a horde of people tramping their ghastly shoes over my favorite carpet.

Charles had obviously wasted no time in taking every moment of glory he could from my notes. I wish him well, nothing could make me happier than to know I had been able to take care of at least one member of my family. I slowly walked the familiar halls of my home, wishing that something could have changed, made it feel alien to me. Each memory, idea, line of text I had jotted here remained in it's place, and reminded me of the only things I never wanted to see again, and yet yearned for, Myka and Christina.

She and I played chase in this room, screaming and laughing as we traded off hunting the other down until we fell laughing into a heap. Here I taught her why the cat scratched her for pulling it's tail. This place, this is the place Myka kissed me. For but a few nights I had held her in my arms, and it had been the most complete I have ever felt. The pangs jabbed at my heart once more, and I moved on quickly.

"Ma'am you're just in time for the guided tour." An overtly perky woman informed me. Her dreadful clothing was only mildly worse than the nasal tone of her voice, and nothing could be less welcome in that moment.

"I'll be just fine wandering on my own." I fought to hide the sneer.

"Oh no ma'am. I promise the experience is far better with a guide to answer any questions. Sign in right here and we can all begin." She shoved a plastic pen into my hand and nudged me into the end table. I set the ghastly thing down and swiftly signed 'Edward Moreau'. "Well isn't that beautiful handwriting." She mumbled, stepping away to lead the rest of the group. I wonder if she could read it at all.

The next two hours were spent listening to the worst mash-up of information about myself and my brother mixed into one. She kept roping me into things, it was most frustrating; to stand still after so many decades of waiting was deplorable. I kept as pleasant an expression as possible under the circumstances.

Finally I escaped with the excuse of powdering my nose. I passed a pair arguing quietly by the entry table, and I was a good two feet past them when the most ghostly scent entered my nose. I knew that smell. Lavender. I turned in time to see her, Myka speaking to a chubby man, her face animated and free of so many of the pains I remembered. I smiled and my heart swelled with excitement. Just in time to burst.

Myka glanced over me appreciatively, then went back to her argument.

I cannot describe the agony that threatened to turn my vision red with rage. I could do no more than glare at her idiot of a partner, perhaps this was Steve, or Artie. Why had I kept those names so dearly, they should mean nothing to me, but dear Myka, she loved them so much.

I was soon caught up by that nasal woman's tour group yet again. I fumed my way through another two minutes of annoyance before Myka and her partner joined us. Every second she spent ignoring me froze what little love I had kept warm in my frozen heart. They waited barely ten minutes before the man was speaking.

"All right Wells, ths jig is up. We know who you are." I stared in shock. Good heavens, Myka this is how you say hello? Arrest me. At least she could have spoken to me herself.

"Pete!" Myka hissed. Dear God her voice ripped such sweet memories from their banishment.

"No Myka, I'm sick and tired of this pompous guy just mocking us." With that the young man ripped off the quite fake mustache our 'host' was wearing. I had to cover my mouth to hide my slacked jaw. Everyone else was in shock for a different reason; including Peter. This is Peter… I don't understand her fondness.

"I am so sorry for the inconvenience everyone." This woman who was undeniably Myka, and yet not her stepped forward to curb her partner, and I couldn't help but stare. The voice was slightly different but it was Myka; warm and husky, colored only by embarrassment without the pain she nearly broke under just upon our first meeting. I hugged my waist with one arm, trying to hold myself back from her while I covered my dumbfounded expression with the other. The only thing I could have wanted was to attack her. My mind and body were still conflicted as to whether it should be with passion or rage.

She handled the situation adeptly, urging everyone out on 'secret service' business. I don't know what secret service is, but the crush allowed me to be jostled away without her notice. I placed my notes on the end table in the study, and allowed myself to be showed out with the others.

I separated from those idiots as soon as the doors shut, and stepped into the gardens. Good Lord she is here. Actually here. My chest closed in panic and I gasped for breath. Myka cared nothing for me. She's here, taunting me with the possibility of her affection. I squeezed my eyes shut to quell the sheer pain of such a realization.

The longer I stood there praying for the sweet relief of air, I decided that I had fulfilled my goal of finding Myka. Now the only thing left was to encase this world in that same ice she buried my heart in.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay I just realized while writing this that in neither story did I really say what was going on timeline wise. Well Christina dies soon after, but at the time Myka and Helena meet back in London H.G. is still intrigued by the idea of time travel and tinkering around with a few ideas. It doesn't become serious until Christina dies.

Helena's POV

Immediately I ran into Myka's partner, and I couldn't help but remember my first encounter with Myka. My Tesla to her temple, and my body pressed against hers before I'd registered anything beyond a stalker in the alley. 'I see we are forever destined to meet at gunpoint.' she said. I had used that as evidence that we would meet again, despite that damnable bit of hope she had that we wouldn't. Of course my Christina died, and I've seen her yet again, still no gun in sight. I do so hope it's in my hands when the time comes.

"Oh um, hello, I uh," Notebook Helena. Pay attention. "Notebook, my notebook." I sidled away from the door, "I left my notebook upstairs, I didn't think anyone would mind If I just popped in and grabbed it."

"Hello hello." He smiled, puffing his chest out like some peacock and sticking his thumbs in his belt. It was an awful display that I was all too familiar with. He and Charles had similar modes of flirting. Repulsive.

It didn't take too much conversation to have him wrapped around my finger. I kissed him firmly, running my hands down his chest to his belt. He clung to me and I pretended it was Myka's hands, her lips. The object of my imagination, and the cause of my damnation rounded the corner with a Farnsworth, "Peeettteee, Artie says-"

I reached into his holster, removed his tesla and turned him around with the tip to his neck. I peered over his shoulder with a pleased grin at Myka, she couldn't ignore me now. Peter squeaked out, interrupting what she had to say, "H.G. Wells is a woman.. Yeah I guessed. A really really hot woman." Pete had his hands raised, and he looked over his shoulder at me, "Be careful with that it's a-"

"Tesla, I know. I was the one who brought it to the warehouse." I took a moment to look Myka over fully. The years had changed her greatly she seemed relaxed, less cautious and concerned than the woman I met. Her bearing however was just as stiff as the starch on Wooley's collars. "When I was an apprentice at warehouse twelve."

Myka 's surprise lasted a mere second before her gun was aimed at my head. "Release him."

I smiled, here was that gunpoint greeting, too bad she had one too. "No. I think you should put down your weapon, these devices can be quite lethal."

Myka's expression took on a mischievous glint, "That has a certain… ringtone to it, doesn't it?"

Pete shifted slightly and nodded. All of a sudden the strangest sound resounded through the hall. A gruff fellow singing, "C is for cookie, that's good enough for me."

What the bloody hell is that? I lost focus allowing Peter the chance to remove his weapon from my grasp, and wrap his ape-like arms around me. Why did everyone from this time have to be so much stronger than I? I wriggled in his grasp.

Myka applied cold cuffs to my wrists and frogmarched me upstairs. Peter set me in one of the hard desk chairs. Obviously the current custodians had replaced the cushions with something less comfortable. "So what exactly is in here that's so important?" Myka asked, hands on her hips as she looked around for anything to stand out. It was agony.

"Well I'm not going to just tell you that." I raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

Myka sat down at the desk to look through some of my published works, newspaper articles. They'd left piles of them sitting on the desk to draw the eye. "So what's with your issue with men? Seems to me that you had no regard for them."

I scoffed, she should know who my regards sat with. "Neanderthals the lot of them. You should know how ridiculous they are." I nodded at her partner. Of course she had only met my brother Charles before he started trying to rule over me the way men are taught to. Only worry for my health once Christina had died, but still.

"Geez lady, cranky much? I sense a lot of anger here." Peter waved his hand in circular motions right in front of my face.

"Yes well being trapped in bronze with nothing but your thoughts does that to you." I snapped. Of course I was angry.

His face fell, "Wait, you mean you're awake when they bronze you?"

Myka looked apalled, "No one told us that." As if she didn't already know. Why the hell are you playing dumb Myka, we both know you're smarter than that.

I sneered at her, "And you call yourselves agents. You can't even find artifacts on your own, you have to steal them."

"Just.. Just tell us where the artifact is." Myka snapped.

I scoffed, "Those shutters over there, close them at the same time." They did as instructed, allowing me a chance to get to work on the cuffs. They were actually easier to pick than the thick manacles of my time. The wiring and keyhole for my little device were revealed, smooth as clockwork. "Now look under that drawer."

Myka pulled out the key from underneath and examined it, "Hey Pete, the markings on this key match the markings over there."

He pointed and exclaimed, "The markings her match the ones over there!"

Good God how does she stand this idiot. I rolled my eyes, "What are you talking about, they're completely unrelated."

"Sure we believe you." Myka muttered, activating the anti-gravity device. There was a satisfying thud as they both hit the ceiling. They groaned in pain. I took my time getting up, and looking through the chamber for my vest, it appeared untouched, so I took it and strapped it on.

"God what is your problem lady? We're just trying to do our job, the same job that you used to do." Peter spluttered. He seemed to be a baffle with bullshit kind of fellow, blustering his way into the occasion intelligent action, so I took great pleasure in taunting him.

"Now who's angry?"

James and I met outside the warehouse, leaving little presents for whomever wished to follow us. This place reminded me so much of the good days, it's sweet apple scent giving me hope that it would once more fulfill my dreams. We reached the escher vault soon enough. James gave me the fuel excitedly, well, with as much energy as a man his age could muster. He entered the complicated password with ease while I installed the fuel. "Why are you wearing that necklace?" I asked curiously. He had had it on since I saw him earlier, and I could only wonder what it's purpose was.

"It's a gift from an old friend. Without it, my blood would boil in my veins." Always a good thing to know.

"Hmm," I clicked the last casing into place, "Well let's see if this works or kills me, shall we?"

He chuckled, and waited as I activated the jacket.

Stillness. Heart beats. Colors and promises.

Exhilarating, everything moved slower than I could possibly imagine. It felt as though the whole world had pulled to a complete halt. Is this what the world truly looks from a snapshot? I paced a short circle around MacPherson, examining every inch of his slimy features before remembering my reasons for being here.

The vault was different. It moved, barely, but enough that I had not been wearing the vest I would most definitely be lost among the massive moving corridors around me. Thankfully I was able to spot my goal early on, and retrieved the locket without a hitch. The journey back was a far less trivial matter, and it took until I stood upside down in an arch to realize I had been heading the wrong direction, and the exit was behind me.

I took a couple of risky jumps, trusting to the questionable physics of my situation before I exited the vault with my skin intact. MacPherson had barely moved. I glanced around and decided that his traps were more than sufficient to delay the others. I had some business to take care of.

"I'll tell you everything, I know what she's planning." I had taken longer than expected, too long. James was surrounded by a veritable wolf pack of enemies, slavering to be released.

"Disappointing, but not very surprising." I stopped behind MacPherson, de-activating the vest for a moment. I looked directly at Myka as I slipped a thin pocket knife under the coarse thread holding James' protection to his skin. "It was a pleasure working with you." I whispered, too low for anyone but Myka and James to hear. The thread cut, I used the device to leave, and left it lying at the door.


	5. Chapter 5

What kind of monster is this? I hit my head gently against the brick factory walls and closed them against the tears threatening my control. This monster tearing at my very heartstrings to remind me of the loss I thought beaten so long ago. Myka left me millennia, no eons ago and yet I still must wrangle my heart into stillness each time she speaks. I should have left the girl to die. Claudia is nothing but a threat to my plans. Why couldn't I leave her? Why does this rage so easily fester when I am apart from her and yet fall into perfect submission the moment her eyes so delightfully gaze upon mine?

"Don't let her go on her own please, just help her into the car. I need to do something really quick." Myka said around the corner of the building. I couldn't even open my eyes for fear that tears would force themselves onto my cheeks. It would not be prudent to cry in front of my... Enemy. She's my enemy. "Are you all right?" She touched my cheek and I could not help it.

I turned the tables and pushed her against the wall my lips colliding with hers. Oh God how much I wish she were mine. She kissed back and all I could do was close my eyes and pretend it was the same woman who broke my heart, if only to savor the sweetness before destruction. She knotted her fingers in my hair and whimpered so softly I could not tell if it was my imagination. I swept my tongue over her lip, begging an invitation.

Then the phantom was gone. Her presence never really was there in the first place I knew. I pressed my hand against the bricks to make sure. Cold as my heart. I rested my head against the wall and sobbed. These were the first tears to cross the threshold of my control since her thrice cursed letter burned it's message into my memory. The SUV rolled out of the parking lot, and I steeled my soul for the inevitable challenge to come.

"Never again." I whispered. I swear I could almost hear the agreement, "Never again."

* * *

><p>This was the very last time I allowed myself to be accosted by my own hallucinations. After the incident outside the sports drink factory I was determined to gain my purpose at any cost. I put a sporting mask on at every sight of the bitch. I flirted and teased her, waiting for the humble blush after each cavalier compliment. Disgusting. Those tears were my last, and now all I had left was my pain.<p>

Even Arthur became a more pleasant person to be around than dear little Myka. She fawned over my every word, mocked my every pain. The horror she instilled in my soul was more than enough to remind me what a monster she would become. My shell cracked ever so slightly when I found her and Peter latched into my time machine, their minds so close to death that even I became worried.

I realized why when I found Dracula's pendant down Broadway 76B, I didn't want Myka to just die. I wanted her to see what she had created, and I wanted to watch her be destroyed.

* * *

><p>"You go turn off the core Helena, Pete and I will deal with this last trap." Myka directed, sending me off towards the pulsating core of Warehouse Two. This is how far you've taken me Myka. To the very depths of Warehouse history and I couldn't give a pence to know the location of anything here save one. I slipped my tesla from my belt in case there were guardians about and quickly made my way to the weapons section of the warehouse.<p>

It took me a few moments to find the spear. Myka and Pete would be on their way to halt the core's effort to destroy Mrs. Fredric's mind; I needed to get out before they stopped the meltdown. "Helena!" Myka called out, "What is that? Why haven't you shut down the core yet?"

I spun around, my weapon brandished, "I'm sorry darling, I'm afraid that's not in the plans." She opened her mouth to speak yet again but I silenced both her and Peter with my tesla. "I'll see you in a while darling, don't want you to miss the show." I stepped over them and left through the primary exit. They would have another two hours to escape the pyramid before they were buried completely, if they didn't make it out, then I would simply suffer the blow to my ego and move on. However I think Myka is smarter than that.

* * *

><p>I knew where I was going. Yellowstone park was not too far from the freeway. I had taken the liberty to discover my destination beforehand of course. Now I simply had to follow through without revealing my motives too quickly. Airport security had me jittering uncomfortably the entire flight as I prayed that my baggage had been screened poorly. It would be sad if a simple person brought all to an end with a metal detector.<p>

The drive to the park was nerve wracking. Despite dwelling upon it for so long, I had lost all memory of the words my darling had shared with me. I could not remember if she spoke of this moment. I arrived in the park and drove up the mountain, ignoring all the signs and warnings. I donned my vestment as the metal beast bounced up the dirt track, perhaps not the safest way to drive, but certainly the most precautious.

They arrived at the base of the small slope just as I finished fitting the trident's pieces together. Good Lord, the power that hummed in my blood was intoxicating. Better than any vintage of wine, more powerful and the greatest writer's words. The Minoan Trident, Earthshaker, Wavebreaker. My release from this awful torment.


	6. The End

"Wells I'm going to ask you just once to put down that trident." Arthur yelled, pulling a gun from his seemingly endless bag.

I rested the trident at my side. Its base rested on the epicenter of the volcano. I laughed at his silliness, "Arthur you cannot win! Don't you understand the magnitude of what has been done?" He ignored me, still pointing the revolver at my chest. I gestured at him with the trident, lifting it's great weight from the ground, "Leave Arthur, nothing will dissuade me." It should have been a declaration, triumphant in victory. So why do I sound tired?

"Put the trident down!" He shouted from the base of the hill. Arthur brought the gun up to bear, and I could not accept that. I gritted my teeth and smashed the trident into the ground. The Earth groaned around me and my knees knocked together at the sudden undulation of the Earth; however, I remained stable. Arthur fell back and pulled the trigger in one motion. Myka clung to her door of the car.

For a brief second the sensation of hot metal ripped through my shoulder in the kind of agony I had only felt upon being debronzed. However, Arthur's face was the one that remained contorted in pain.

Myka rushed to Arthur's side, "Artie! What did you do to him?!" The look of betrayal on her face as she pulled her tesla forced a sliver of guilt into my soul. She looked prepared to murder me bare-handed and I could help but wonder if she would actually do it.

"No! Myka you can't hurt her, she's wearing the Corsican Vest. It'll only rebound." Arthur wheezed. He was the very voice of experience with blood seeping from the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

Myka tucked her tesla into her waistband and slowly advanced on me, "Don't do this Helena, you don't want this." She pleaded, hands up to try and calm me.

"The hell I don't!" I snapped. She dared think she could order me around. I lifted to trident and rotated it until it was point down and I thrust it into the ground once more, creating a giant fissure that spread past sight in both directions. The ground's shake could have been described as a violent shrug. Like a dog attempting to dislodge a pest from it's coat, the ground beneath us was attempting to shrug us off. One more and it would explode violently. It would release Apocalypse, Ragnarok, the end upon all the world.

Myka braced herself and barely remained upright. "Don't do this Helena. You are murdering millions of people." She kept advancing on me, trying to get close enough to take the trident. "Christina wouldn't want this." She did not. That traitor did not just say her daughter's name.

I lifted the trident from the ground and the earth did not stop it's rumbling. "What would you know about my daughter!" I jabbed at her, making her keep her distance. "The people here do not deserve to live! I was bronzed hoping to find a future, a utopia that I could accept! Instead you have ruined this Earth even more than before. It is not to be borne! The Earth needs to heal Myka, and I am going to rid the Earth of this pestilence before the harm is too much to repair."

Myka's eyes filled with tears and she replied almost too quiet to be heard amongst the ruckus. "Then kill me. Kill me right here in cold blood, because that is what you will be doing to me. You are going to take the life of every Christina that has ever, and will ever be born."

She asked the one thing I could not do. I hated her, every inch of her perfection. I hated her innocence and her wretched habits. I loathed the way she would curl up with a book and smile to herself as she was lost in my own books. There was not a single thing about Myka Ophelia Bering that I could ever love so long as she was so close to the woman I had bequeathed my heart upon. However, nothing in this universe could possess me to kill something so close to perfection.

I hadn't even noticed slipping to the ground. The tears falling from my cheeks seemed foreign. How could I be so weak? I could not even destroy my adversary in her weakness. I stared up at her, and the pure relief on her features lit her up. It was so familiar. That was the very same look she had on her face as she had when I greeted her at gunpoint in a London Alley.

The slip of ancient wood from my hands did not register until whole minutes later. By then I was divested of my other artifacts and cuffed. Tears continued down my face and I could see nothing. The world slowly faded away as I realized how I had poisoned my own love.

I don't know how long I sat in a stupor until Irene Fredrics sat before me. I looked around and realized I was inside a white room. The table between us held a small golden coin. I could not remove my gaze from it. "What does it do?" I croaked, my throat had seen little use since I had fallen in Yellowstone.

"It gives you a second chance." Mrs. Fredrics replied. Who knows how long I was sitting there. Perhaps days, waiting for me to return to the world. Did I want that? A chance? Did I even want life?

"Why? How?"

"We will contain your mind inside the coin, and your body will continue to live on with a similar but less dangerous personality. You will be able to recognize the passage of time only when someone needs you."

"A telephone to madness." I nodded. I am a useful record of times when things were less well reported. "Very well." I do not know the details, I don't really care. Maybe I can repent of my crimes.

I was only utilized a very few times. Each moment of awareness was the kind of agony that only increased when I realized that I had actually enjoyed the company of young Claudia and Peter's cheerful jabs about my sanity. Now I was only an angry reminder and no one appreciated it. Except Myka. She fought and pleaded and begged to get me out of the prison. I only grew sadder as I realized how much it hurt her to see me this way. Perhaps Myka's glee at finally finding me in London was because she had only a hologram to speak with.

Either way, I was less than pleased when Sykes released me from my cage only to imprison my body through the use of that deplorable riding crop. I had been so close to oblivion when he retrieved the coin. I would have strangled the man if he had not been in control of my body.

So many close calls that evening. The cannon, the chess board… The rope of the Mary Celeste. How my will to survive had flared up I do not know. Just days ago I had begged for death and destruction. I did not care that my body had an awful American accent or that I had named my cat Dickens. The moment I saw the bomb inside Sykes' wheelchair however, I could not help but scream out in frustration.

I had only a few moments with these people that was not panic ridden. "Go! Into the Ovoid Quarantine." I urged, I could redirect the currents of the Warehouse's shield to protect a small section of the quarantine.

"Yes, come on we need to diffuse that bomb!" Artie shouted, already half-way down the aisle from us. He knew better than to wait for us to start moving. We raced to the Ovoid Quarantine and the others got to work digging through piles of unsorted artifacts as quickly as possible while still trying not to set any off. I got to work on my own project.

"There's nothing here! We're trapped and there's nothing we can do!" Pete shouted, kicking a box rather sharply. Perfect. They all gathered around him to comfort him and make sure he was uninjured and I activated the field around them. They turned to me in shock.

"Helena what did you do?"

"I redirected a portion of the shield to that spot there." I tried cracking a smile, "It was the only thing to do."

"No!"

"Helena why are you out there?!"

"Get inside here!"

"H.G. what are you doing?!"

Their protests warmed my heart and I wondered if my Myka would forgive me so easily when we finally met in death.

"I smell Apples."

**A/N: Well... This is it. I tried a lot of different ways to end this, and this was the only way that felt right. Feel free to leave comments. Thoughts and ideas are always welcome. Tell me if you want another chapter and I'll see what I can do, but for now this is the end.**


End file.
